


I think you're beautiful

by stormthedarkcity



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 19:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17607689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormthedarkcity/pseuds/stormthedarkcity
Summary: This was a fill for a prompt on tumblr! It escaped my control a little bit, and the stripper!Zevran AU was born.I don't know if there are any strip clubs in real life with both male and female employees, but this is my world and it gives the bisexuals what they deserve. it's-equality.gif





	I think you're beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fill for a prompt on tumblr! It escaped my control a little bit, and the stripper!Zevran AU was born.  
> I don't know if there are any strip clubs in real life with both male and female employees, but this is my world and it gives the bisexuals what they deserve. it's-equality.gif

Zevran gathered his clothes and the last few notes scattered on the stage as the music faded, throwing a wink at a patron standing close-by. He stood up with a flourish and one last half-lidded glance over his shoulder at his audience before swaying across the stage and disappearing behind the curtains.

Isabela was adjusting the bra strap poking from her shirt – the one with the deepest cleavage she owned –, fake eyelashes glittering in the warm backstage light.

“Nice one!” she told him with an appreciative glance at his panties.

“You’re not the only one to think so,” he said, uncrumpling a few notes and adding them to a pile he retrieved from his garter. Isabela squinted at it, as though making quick calculations.

“I can do better,” she said, _dared_ , adjusting the blue scarf around her hair. “How do I look?”

Zevran felt a fond smile spread on his face. “Delightful, as always, Bella.” He rolled on his tiptoes to remove a stray eyelash from her cheek, and she grinned at him, as she often did when reminded of how tall she was compared to him.

“Is your shift done?”

Zevran glanced at the clock resting on the nearby table. “Almost, but I’ll work the floor a little longer tonight, I believe I’ve spotted a stag night in the corner near the bar.”

“Ooh!” Isabela’s eyes widened. “Leave some for me!”

Zevran snorted as he flattened the last of his notes into something resembling a bundle. He retrieved the hair tie from his wrist and attached it together. “First come, first served,” he said, and kissed her cheek. “Now go get them!”

Isabela waved a hand at him, and, adjusting her boobs one last time, she disappeared behind the curtains just as Varric announced the arrival of “Rivaini” over the music.

Zevran remained backstage just long enough to fix his hair in the mirror, add some glitter on his eyelids, and shrug on a lacy robe he didn’t bother closing. When he emerged back into the main room, Isabela was already shirtless, hanging from the pole at the end of the stage with the garment stuck in her teeth. He joined the choir of appreciative cheers as he walked to the bar to give his earnings to Leliana for safekeeping.

“Hey, you free?”

Zevran whirled around with his best smile, finding a short man behind him, one fist firmly planted on his hip.

“I am. What can I do for you, _cielito_?” He let his gaze wander on his body. There was a bright pink badge on his shirt, with two interlaced rings drawn on it, and ‘ _almost married!_ ’ written under them.

“Not for me,” the man said. He pointed behind him at a booth – the stag night booth – where a few people were sat, all looking at them. Zevran shot a wink in their general direction.

“Can you come over? My friend has something to tell you.”

“Of course.”

There were a handful of people sitting around the table covered in empty glasses, but Zevran’s gaze immediately latched onto the silhouette at the back of the seats. It was a man about his age, tan skin and short blond hair, looking up at him with the lower half of his face hidden behind a faintly trembling hand. The tips of his ears were red, visible even in the dim light of the club, and he looked a bit like he was going to be sick.

But despite his discomfort, his eyes weren’t leaving Zevran. They darted to his undies, visible through the opening of his robe, and he blinked quickly before looking at Zevran in the eyes, as though remembering social norms. Zevran smiled a little wickedly at him, and his gaze fell in a panic to his chest, although that seemed to only worsen his embarrassed enthrallment.

“Alistair?”

Zevran remembered the presence of the patron by his side. He was gesturing at Zevran, but looking at the man at the table.

“Alistair, I think you had something to say to, uh, Crow, is it?”

“Indeed,” Zevran confirmed without looking at him. The man at the back of the booth – Alistair, apparently – slumped into his seat, a weak whine rising from between his fingers. He startled as the man next to him poked his side with an elbow, and his hand finally dropped from his face.

And a very nice face, too. Under the blushing. Although the blushing was quite a treat too.

He cleared his throat. “I, uh. I– I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re beautiful.” His voice became really quiet on the last word.

Zevran swallowed back a laugh at how mild the compliment was, compared to what patrons usually called him. He moved forward before Alistair had time to second-guess his words, and braced himself on the table.

“Thank you, _amor_. Did you enjoy my time on the stage?” Zevran batted his eyelashes at him, letting his shoulders shift under his weight so the robe would move with it. Alistair watched it tumble against the table with a quick blink and his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Y-yes. You’re, uh, you’re good.”

Zevran’s smile widened.

“I’m glad you think so. Would you like a private dance?”

Alistair made a noise that sounded suspiciously like choking. He raised both hands in front of him in defence. “N–No, thank you, I, ah, I don’t even have any money left!” he squeaked with an apologetic grimace.

 _Bullshit_.

There was a rustle next to Zevran, and he turned to find the groom-to-be digging in his wallet. “It’s my treat, Alistair!” he said, with something in his voice that suggested he’d also seen through the lie. “Come on, it’s not my stag night every night!”

There was raucous laughter from the rest of the booth, as Alistair looked wholeheartedly like he was praying for the ground to swallow him.

“No one’s ever been harmed by my private dances, Alistair, I promise,” Zevran said with a chuckle. The rest of the booth broke out in encouragement, hands reaching out to push Alistair around playfully.

“I…” Alistair hid his face fully for a brief moment, before exhaling deeply and emerging with something like determination in his eyes. “Yes. I’d like that.” Cheers and whistles rose around the table as they started shuffling around to let Alistair leave the booth.

“Thanks, Duran,” he said upon finally getting free, humour held behind clenched teeth. Duran laughed and patted his shoulder.

“You’re very welcome, Al.”

Duran handed a bundle of notes to Zevran, who tucked it into his garter (maybe a little more deliberately than necessary). He smiled at Alistair, who swallowed and hid his hands into his jeans’ pockets.

Zevran indicated the backrooms with a movement of his head that made his hair sway. “Shall we go?”

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is also on [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/469758) and on [tumblr](https://stormthedarkcity.tumblr.com/post/182429001398/), if you want to share it around! I will love you forever <3


End file.
